


Falling Apart Was Never So Complicated

by shippingmyarmada



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Angst, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mentions of past child abuse, Sibling Incest, Underage Character, lots and lots of angst, lots and lots of conflicted emotions and self hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-17 09:12:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1381957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shippingmyarmada/pseuds/shippingmyarmada
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can't be what he wants you to be, no matter what. It doesn't matter if you want it too, you are his older brother and that is not the way things work. So you pretend that nothing has changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Your name is Bro Strider and mentally, you are falling apart. Physically, you are hiding from your brother in the bathroom.

\------5 months before------

For you, it had all started when you read on some shitty parenting website that you should check your child's web history, and decided to check up on your little bro's. You had no idea when it had started for Dave.

You logged onto Dave's computer, hacking it with ease, and opened a browser. You went to the history button and clicked the most viewed option. Of course you had expected there to be some porn sites, because what 16 year old boy didn't watch porn, but what you didn't expect to find your porn site at the number one spot.

You clicked the link, just to make sure that it was in fact the website you had created all those years ago, when you were just a two years older than he was now so you could make enough money to keep you and your kid brother alive after you took him and ran away, and it was. The images and videos that popped up on the screen were ones that were very familiar to you, considering they were of you and you had done all the editing.

It was no secret to Dave that you were a pornstar, one simple search of 'Bro Strider' in google lead to your smuppet site and porn site. You made no effort to hide it, because of course he would search you at some point, probably wondering how you made so much money by only DJing on the weekends. But you had always figured he would find it and be disgusted, because most brothers wouldn't want to see their guardian in that way. You had never thought that it would be the most viewed site on his browser history.

An image of Dave watching the videos and pleasuring himself popped into your mind without your permission and you felt your pants get a little uncomfortable at the thought of his face flushed and his hand moving quickly in his pants as he watched you. Immediately you blocked the image and shoved it down, as far down as you could. Dave was just curious. You couldn't take advantage of that. Brothers weren't supposed to feel that way about each other anyway, it was disgusting and wrong and immoral, so you got rid of those thoughts. You wouldn't do to Dave what your father had done to you. You could never, ever hurt him. You were a shitty guardian, but you weren't that kind of shitty.

You closed the browser and shut down his computer, making sure everything was the way it was before. You didn't want to let him know what you had found out. You decided that you had to go with life as usual, be the same douchebag you always were, because he would know something was up if you changed your stoic figure in anyway, just like you had taught him. You taught him to coat himself in irony and a facade of uncaring like you did, so he would never get hurt. You were the asshole you were to prepare him, because he was the only person you cared about.

\-----4 months before-----

When you woke up one morning after a dream about you and Dave doing things brothers didn't normally do with a hard on for the seventeenth time that month, you decided that the cold showers didn't work as well as jacking off, so you turned the shower on to a warm temperature and finally gave in to your basic desire.

You were facing the door, slowly pumping your member, when you saw the door knob jiggle. You knew you had locked it, but the door swung open just a crack. Dave was watching you. You froze momentarily. After a second you decided that you couldn't let him know you had found him out, that would be awkward, so you just acted like you didn't notice and continued with what you were doing.

You also found out that the fact that Dave was watching you and probably doing the same to himself turned you on a lot more than you would ever care to admit.

Your hand sped up and you braced yourself on the shower wall. The cold tiles were a nice contrast to the steamy water the was pouring on your back. You made sure to position yourself so Dave would have a good view. That was another thing you'd never admit. It was too sick.

You imagined Dave kneeling in front of you his perfect pink lips stretched around your dick as you thrusted instead of your hand. You imagined his red eyes staring up at you and you squeezed your own shut. God you wanted it to be real. You leaned your head forward and pressed your forehead on the cold tiles.

You imagined thrusting into his hot wet mouth and came, hard against the wall, with a small groan in the back of your throat.

You stayed there for a second then washed everything away, and watched the door close and relock. You felt sick to your stomach

\-----3 months before-----

He was seducing you and you knew it. You knew he knew you knew what he was doing, but he didn't stop.

You kept up your stony appearance as always, not letting him know the turmoil you were actually going through. You didn't show that the lingering touches and slightly inappropriate hand placements or the obvious times he was checking you out actually sent you reeling inside. No, you were Bro Strider, irony master who didn't show any emotion. Most of the time.

You made it clear that nothing he did could ever get to you, because what Dave was doing was wrong. The dreams that had plagued you since you found his browser history were wrong. So, so wrong and disgusting and you shouldn't be his guardian, but you couldn't possibly let him go into the system and you couldn't possibly part with him, so you acted normal and told yourself the feelings would pass. That they wouldn't be permanent and that Dave would get over you soon and find someone more appropriate and better for him, someone less broken and fucked up than you.

Dave should not have been sitting so close to you on the couch. His leg shouldn't be pressed against yours like that. His pinky shouldn't have been tracing lines on your thigh.

But most of all you should not have been enjoying it.

He had to know it was wrong, right?

Dave's hand crept over so it was fully on you knee. You kept your face expressionless as his hand slowly scooted up your leg, his fingertips massaging your inner thigh and sending jolts straight to your cock. You felt your dick twitch to life as his hand got higher and you hated yourself for what you were imagining. You hated yourself for wanting to fuck him so hard he couldn't walk for days.

His hand was on your mid thigh by then, and you decided that two could play that game. Maybe once you touched him he would realize that that was wrong. You knew he wouldn't but your fingers were itching to touch him, so you did. Carefully at first, just your large hand covering his knee, then slowly you crept up, the same way he had.

Neither of you looked at each other. You both stared straight ahead at mind numbing show that was on tv, not daring to look at one another.

By the time your hand was at the middle of his thigh, his was dangerously close to your dick. You chanced a peek at him, moving just your eyes behind your glasses so he wouldn't notice. He was breathing hard and his face was flushed, he was sporting a raging boner and the hand that wasn't on you was twitching as he strained to not touch his erection. He was hot. He was so fucking hot and you wanted to see him like that under you. You tore your eyes away.

Dave's hand on your dick dragged you from your little fantasy. His hand was palming you through your jeans, and it felt amazing, but you couldn't. You sprang from the couch and looked at him, actually looked at him. You saw the confusion and hurt written along his features, the way he was curling into himself and you hated yourself again. You hated how you couldn't just do what he wanted, because you were his guardian and you had to look into the future and you hated hurting him but the two of you couldn't have this relationship.

If you did what he wanted he would never have a normal relationship again. He was probably still a virgin and you did not want him to lose his virginity to his _big brother_. That would haunt him for the rest of his life. Dave could have normal relationships even if you couldn't. Hurting him a little now would save him from more pain in the future.

"We can't fucking do this." You said as sternly as you could.

"Why the fuck not?" Came his reply, "I want it and you fucking want it, so why not?" He pushed his glasses farther up his nose in what you knew was a defense mechanism.

"Well one, you're my lil bro." You decided to give him a straight answer, no layers of irony to sort through. "You're not even legal. You're probably a virgin." He huffed at that, proving that you were right, "Its fucked up. I can't fuck you up like that."

He glared at you. "I don't care if it's fucked up. I love you, Bro. More than I fucking should. I just want you. In every way. What's so different about me? You fuck people all the time. Why won't you let me make you feel good? I fucking love you." He was crying now. His voice was quivering just a little and a few tears were running down his face and he was fighting not to show so much emotion. He had been feeling this way for longer than you had originally thought.

He was still cute and you hated yourself for thinking that.

Before you could stop yourself you were leaning over him, one hand bracing yourself on the back of the couch, the other on his face, thumbing away the tears. "What are you doing to me Dave Strider?" you breathed, allowing yourself just this once to give in. You gently pressed your lips against his and he was too stunned to kiss back. It was over all too soon, and you had to pull away before he tried to make it more, so you did. "You'll get over me little man. I'm not all that much." Was all you said before flash stepping from the room. From your room you heard a sob but you couldn't go back out. He had to work through it on his own. Your presence would make it worse.

You shoved the smuppets out of the way and flopped down on your bed. You removed your shades and rubbed your eyes, groaning. The same mental battle that had been repeating itself for two months was back, worse then ever. You wanted him more than anyone you had ever met, but it was wrong. You would be taking advantage of him.

You couldn't do it, no matter how much you and him both wanted it.

\------2 months before------

The stress was getting to you. You couldn't sleep anymore because when you did you dreamed of him. You could hardly eat because every time you joined him for meals (which had gone from every meal to hardly one a day), you saw his face and the way his lips closed around his fork or spoon and you wanted to throw the utensil from his hands and kiss him; and every time that feeling coursed through you, your stomach churned violently. You couldn't focus on your porn because you knew he'd be watching the videos. You couldn't focus on your smuppets because you would find your mind wandering to Dave and end up jabbing needles into your fingers. You couldn't drive him to school on mornings you were able to anymore because you would stare at him in the mirrors until you almost crashed. You could hardly make it out of bed in the morning because of the stress and the self-hate dragging you down.

You felt like absolute shit.

You  _were_ absolute shit.

So you did what anyone else would do. You got hammered.

You tried to drink away the pain and the guilt and the self-hatred, but you always ended up forgetting your own name before you forgot his and the way he made you feel. Even when you drank yourself to a stupor you remembered the curve of his lips and the curve of his ass and the shocks that went through you when he oh so casually brushed his hands in places they shouldn't be. Through the buzz and haze of vodka and rum you remembered how sick you were for loving him the way you did.

So when the alcohol didn't work you took up drugs.

It started with just marijuana, but the haze of smoke that filled your lungs may have made you happy, but it didn't make you forget. The nights always ended with happy daydreaming of a different world where you and Dave weren't brothers and more self-hatred. You were drowning without any water.

Then you started more hardcore drugs, like acid and cocaine, but your hallucinations were always of him spinning on the turntables you got him two years ago for Christmas and the way he moved in your imagination was intoxicating. No matter how high you got, the person you were fucking at the end of the long nights of clubbing and DJing always turned into Dave in your mind.

You took up more DJing gigs to avoid the tension that was always present when you were around Dave. You distanced yourself from him and it constantly felt like both your brain and heart were being torn apart.

\------2 weeks before------

You and Dave had been avoiding each other. In the few moments you were together the tension, both sexual and not, was so great you could hardly stand it. Of course you acted like it didn't phase you, but you hated how separated you were becoming from Dave. He was your lifeline. He needed you to be there for him, so you always had been.

You were destroying yourself and you couldn't care less. You just wanted to forget the self loathing that came after waking up from dreams of you and Dave together with a raging boner. You wanted to forget the past few months. You just wanted it to go back to being bros and strifing on the roof without sexual tension making you slip up, without your hand shaking while pouring cereal in the morning and thoughts of how you looked to him. You hated it and you hated yourself. He was your goddamn little brother. It was wrong.

You knocked on Dave's door and called out, "I'm going out for a while."

The door swung open fast, the door handle slammed into the wall and Dave stood there, glaring at you in the door way. He swung a fist at you but you caught it, holding his fist gently so as not to hurt his hand. He in turn swung the other one, which you caught as well, at your face. Angry tears were streaming down his face and he was screaming at you.

"Off to go get high and fuck random strangers again? Right?" He screamed, his voice cracking, "You're destroying yourself Bro! You're killing yourself and it's killing me! I can't fucking stand what you're doing to yourself. Its all my fucking fault! Why can't I just be normal?" He tore his hands from yours and flung them around you, screaming sobs into your chest. You held onto him and swore you would stop, if this was hurting him so bad. You kept your feelings masked as he pulled away from your chest.

He roughly grabbed your face and pulled it down to his level, smashing his mouth on yours. Your teeth knocked clumsily. His tongue fought to get into your mouth. You pulled away from him and the tears were back. His nails dug into your cheeks where he was holding them, his hands shaking and his sobs loud. He was clearly beating himself up inside as much as you were, but he couldn't mask it like you could.

"I fucking love you Bro. You're all I've got." His voice shook and he let go of your face, crumbling in on himself against the wall. He hugged his knees to his chest as his body wracked with sobs. He was in so much pain and you couldn't stop it. You stood there helplessly for a second before bending down and scooping him up like you did when he was little. He struggled to get out of your grip, screaming about how he hated you and how he hated himself and you just held tighter as he kicked you.

You sat on his bed with him in your lap, refusing to let go. Slowly he calmed down until his sobs were just hiccups and he was telling you that you were squishing him. You didn't loosen your grip. He told you he loved you and he kissed you and you kissed back, enjoying every second of it and hating yourself for enjoying it.

His hands were squirming up your shirt and you pulled them back out, because no, no matter how much you wanted it you couldn't. He was crying again and kissing you and you had to pull him away and push him so he was lying down. His watery eyes brightened up (his shades long abandoned and forgotten on his part, yours still firmly in place) when your hand was on his chest, holding him down, for all the wrong reasons.

"Dave, no." You told him as his shaky hands scrabbled at you shirt. "Dave. Stop. We can't. No. Just... Go to sleep."

"Stay with me. Please. Please. Just sleep. Please." he begged, and you complied. You climbed into bed with him and he clung to you like you were his survival. He fell asleep fast as you rubbed his back, emotionally drained from everything that had happened. You waited until you could see him go into REM sleep before you left for your own bed.

You didn't sleep that night, you just tossed and turned and thought.

\-----1 hour before-----

You decided that you needed to strife some of the tension away, so now you and Dave were circling each other on the roof. You were wearing identical emotionless expressions and you couldn't help but be proud of him. You jumped forward and slashed at him with your katana and he easily blocked it, pushing you back. You Flash stepped around him and he blocked your next swing. You swung again and he blocked, but you were pushing him towards a wall. He refused to swing back, he was just defending.

Half an hour later you were soaked in sweat but you had him pinned against the wall, your shitty cosplay sword pressed lightly on his throat. He was just smirking, his sword abandoned where you had knocked it out of his hands a few feet away. You were both breathing heavily.

Dave grabbed your shirt and pulled you down, crashing your lips onto his. You pulled back but he kept you there, his grip stronger than you were expecting and to be honest you weren't really trying that hard to get away. You threw the katana away from him and it clattered across the roof.

Something came over you and you decided that just one time, just this once, you would allow it. Maybe afterwards he would have gotten his fill of Bro and he wouldn't love you like that anymore. You knew the thought wasn't rational but you needed something to justify why you were moving your hips with his when he pushed against you.

You ground into him and pushed him against the wall. Animalistic urges came over you and you pulled away from his lips to nip and suck on his perfect neck. A moan tore trough his throat and vibrated under your lips.

He pulled you by your hair back to his lips. You devoured his sweet pink lips and pushed the voice that was telling you to stop away, locking it away in your mind so you could no longer hear it. You pushed your knee in between his legs and rubbed it hard against his erection, the motions eliciting another moan from Dave. His hand wandered up your shirt and this time, you didn't stop him. One of his hands found it's way to the bulge in your own pants and you felt the smirk on his lips. He palmed you through your jeans and it felt amazing.

Dave tried to undo your pants but you grabbed his wrists and spun him around. Your hips gyrated against his plump ass and a small noise of pleasure accidentally escaped from your throat. He caught on and brought his hands down to grip your rear and he moved his ass against you like he was a stripper and you were a rich costumer paying for a lap dance. It was one of the best things you had ever felt.

You bucked your hips in perfect sync with him and quickly undid his jeans. You pushed them down just enough to free his boner and gripped it firmly, not tight enough for it to hurt, but not loose either. He moaned. You pumped his shaft, slowly at first and his grip tightened on your ass.

You realized that this was probably the first time anyone other than himself had touched his cock and it made you both nauseous and more turned on. You pushed away that thought too.

He was a moaning mess as you brushed your rough thumb over his sensitive tip and sucked on his neck. You pumped and twisted your hand as you dry humped his ass, and he kept grinding into you. Your hand sped up and he just moaned louder.

He came into your hand with a shout.

After a few more pumps he was finished and he swirled around in your arms. His face was flushed and his shades had slid down far enough for you to see the lust coating his half lidded eyes. His hand was palming you through your jeans again.

Realization of what you had just done crashed around you, bringing your entire world with it. You tried to step away from him but he held on tight.

"You're not done yet Bro. You can't go anywhere." He breathed, his hand slipping down your pants.

You pushed him off of you roughly and he stumbled backwards with a shout of "What the fuck?" and you flash stepped back to the apartment and locked yourself in the bathroom.

It took you almost no time to get your rock hard dick out and start pumping. It didn't take very long for you to cum with the memory of what had just happened fresh in your mind.

It was okay (kind of) for you to get him off, but in no way could you let him get you off.

Your name is Bro Strider and mentally, you are falling apart. Physically, you are hiding from your brother in the bathroom.


	2. Chapter 2

He was knocking on the door, but you didn't move. You didn't want to see him, talk to him, even be in the same apartment as him after what you had done. So you put down the lid of the toilet and sit, bent over, with your head almost between your knees. This can't be happening. You have ruined the one of the few things that mattered to you, your relationship with your brother.

But lets be serious now, you had ruined that about five months ago.

The knocking stops and you hear his back hit the door and slide down, scraping against the hard wood. The door jiggles in it's frame as his head smacks it. You can't breathe.

After a few seconds of pained silence, you slide from the toilet and crawl to the door, thanking god no one can see you now. You lean hard on the door, knocking your head against it like he did, trig to tell him that you're there. You can hear soft, muffled sobs coming from the other side, and it felt like your heart was trying to claw itself out of your chest. You don't even notice that you're crying until the silent tears are making puddles on your hands.

You haven't cried in years, not since you left that house with your six year old kid of a brother. You wonder if what your father did to you made you feel this way about Dave. If you love him this way because he is the only one you trust, the only one who has been with you through everything, who needs you just as you need him. You wonder if he remembers your parents, if he knows that they aren't dead like you tell him, if he knows how they broke you, shattered you into a million pieces that you couldn't fit together the right.

You know that you can never touch him again.

You hope that you'll stick to that rule.

He knocks on the door again, so faintly you aren't sure that it actually happened until he speaks.

"Bro," He murmurs, so lightly you have to strain your ears to hear the next part, "Let me in."

You wipe all the tears from your face and take off your shades, placing them gently next to you on the floor. One deep breath and a few seconds later, you hesitantly unlock the door and move so that if he wanted to get in it would be possible. There is a loud sob and the door flings open, hitting you hard on your side, bouncing back and hitting Dave as well.

You tried to stop the tears from pouring down your face, but when you looked at him, you couldn't.

Your bones feel like they are on fire, and Dave feels like a fireman with an extinguisher. All you want is to do whats right and get away from him, but the urge to hold him is too strong.

He's on top of you so fast you feel like you should congratulate him. But you don't. You hold onto him as tight as he holds onto you, probably tighter. His pain radiates from him and bounces back into you, making you want to tear your heart from where it lies in your chest.

You can feel a wet spot spreading on your shoulder from his tears and snot, but you don't care. This is more emotion in one tiny room than you have ever experienced.

He's muttering things into your shoulder that you can't understand, so you take a few deep, shuddering breaths and ask him. "What are you saying, Dave? Speak up." You murmur into his hair softly, trying as hard as you can to keep your voice from shaking.

He moves his arms around your neck and his fingers are toying with the short hairs on the nape of your neck. "Why can't we?" His voices catches in his clogged throat, breaking, "Nobody has to know... Just us. I love you."

This time, it's you who starts the kiss. It's light, so light you can hardly feel it, but he latches on, pressing forward. He's pawing at you, trying to bring you closer to him. You can feel yourself melting, but you keep it in check, knowing that this won't last, that it can't last. Gently, you bring your hand up to his face, your fingers featherlight as they brush away his tears.

He let's out a violent sob when you touch his cheek, and you pull away immediately. "I'm sorry." He's crying again, "I'm sorry, Bro. So, so, sorry." Dave nuzzles his face into your neck, hugging you tighter.

"What are you sorry for?" You ask while rubbing his back like a child. The motions make your stomach churn, reminding you of the fact that you practically raised this kid. The kid you just did unspeakable things to. You don't want to think about it.

"Making you do this." Dave says, shaking so hard you feel like you need to hold him tighter.

You don't say anything. You have absolutely no clue how to comfort him. All you want to do is yell about how you want this, you want this so, so, so badly, but you just can't. You are supposed to protect Dave from guys like you. Protect him from messed up twenty-seven year olds who want him and his perfect little body, because /god, he's only sixteen/.

You feel so disgusting. You want to run, run like you always do. Run like you did all those years ago. Run like you did earlier today. But you know that this will just follow you forever. He's your brother. He's probably the only person you actually give a shit about. You need to do something about this situation. You need to explain that this is wrong and even if it wasn't he could do so, so much better than you.

You open your mouth to tell him this, but he pushes his hand against your mouth.

"No, stop." He pleads, tears springing back to his perfect crimson eyes. You can see how hard he's fighting to keep his voice from shaking as he talks. "I don't care. I don't fucking care, Bro. I don't care if it's wrong and fucked up. I just... Love you. So, so much, Bro." His voice disintegrates into hardly a whispe and he drops the hand from your mouth. His nails are gripping you shoulders through your shirt so hard that you are almost positive that you're bleeding.

"Dave..." You try to stay cool and collected but you threw that card out the window so long ago that you find the idea of bringing back your demeanor now so ridiculous you have to fight back a laugh.

"Do you love me back?" He asks softly, the words barely registering in your mind.

You sigh, deep and dramatic because you are an asshole and you need to get Dave to realize that. "That's beside the point." You tell him firmly, as sternly as you can while he's in your lap on the unforgiving tiles of the bathroom floor.

"So you do." He says, his voice cracking just a fraction and his face brightening up so much you can't resist telling him the truth.

"Yeah, I guess. But this is wrong. And illegal."

Dave doesn't listen. He smashes his lips against yours fiercely, teeth knocking and noses bumping. You fix the kiss gently, righting it out so Dave fits perfectly against you. He wraps his arms around your neck, kissing with a sloppy fervor that sends you reeling. But you reel in a good way.

You start to dominate the kiss a little, fixing his form and deepening it. You accidentally pour everything you've been feeling for the past few months into this one kiss. Cue mental slap.

Why the fuck are you trying to impress Dave so much? It's not like he's had nearly as much experience as you have.

You gently take his bottom lip in your teeth and he lets out a soft, breathy moan. That moan is what causes you to stop caring that what you're doing is wrong and that you're definitely going to a hell you don't believe in. All you care about is getting him to moan more. You kiss down his neck, sucking and nibbling softly. He can just wear a turtleneck tomorrow. You don't care as you leave a bruise that you know you'll hate in the morning.

Soon he's moaning like a pornstar and grinding down on your hips. You're pretty surprised that just making out is getting so worked up, and even more surprised at how worked up you yourself are getting. There has been way too much sexual tension between you two.

You gently thrust your hips up, wanting friction but not wanting to be needy. He jumps a little and pulls away from you. He stares straight into your eyes, his own wide with what appears to be shock. Dave glances down at the bulge in your tight jeans like he's never seen one before. Then he stares back up at you, his perfect lips parted ever so slightly. You roll your hips again.

The look on his face terrifies you. You don't know if he's happy or about to cry, but then he places a soft hand on your clothed dick. "For me?" He asks, like a child receiving a present. You hate the simile you just thought of and push it away.

You sigh softly as he runs his fingers over your erection. "Ain't nobody else here." You reply, wishing he would touch you, actually touch you, not this tickley shit he's doing right now. You keep your mouth shut though. You've wanted this for so long that now that you let yourself say yes to him, you never want him to stop.

Finally, he fishes your dick from your pants and starts stoking it, hesitantly and barely there. You rock your hips to encourage him, the heavy weight of your cock shifting in his hands.

After a little while of this, you speak up, "Lube." You tell him, "Cabinet."

Dave nods and scrambles off you, practically flinging himself at the cabinet. In his frantic search he knocks about half of the other products from the cabinet, sending them cascading down around him, before he finally finds the lube. He slides back onto your lap, awkwardly rubbing his hard on against your leg in a search for friction.

"Dick out." You order softly, and his hands fly at about a million miles an hour to get out his dick. When he gets it out, you gently stroke it to full hardness. He moans loudly at the simple touches.

You pull him forward with a hand on his ass, pressing your dicks together. You coat them with lube then discard the bottle. You grip them with one hand and pull one of his to join you before starting up a steady pace of stroking.

You watch Dave the entire time, just watch him, because God, he is so perfect. His bright pink flush spreads down his neck and disappears under the collar of his shirt, his lips are parted and he is panting hard. His hair is messed up, sticking out at odd ends and peaks. His face is still tracked with tear stains, glistening in the harsh light. But his eyes, God, his eyes are dark and dazed and blissful, staring back at you through lashes still wet and clumped with tears.

He's moaning softly, barely audible, but you think it's the best sound you've ever heard. You pump faster, harder, trying it entice out moans louder than what he's giving you. You want to, scratch that, /need to/ hear his voice telling you that he's enjoying this. Convincing you that it's okay, even as every bone in your body screams /wrong, wrong, wrong/. You can't breathe in without smelling Dave, can't look without seeing him, can't reach out and touch without your hands landing on him.

Everything ends in a loud haze of pleasure and panting, sticky cum on your shirt and a faint, painful throb in your chest. Who knew sex could make you feel so horrendous but amazing at the same time? You sure didn't.

He collapses down onto you, gripping your polo and murmuring soft "I love you"s into your chest. You hold him, face nestled in his blonde hair and and fists in his t-shirt. Out the bathroom window, you watch the sun set in hues of orange pierced by violent streaks of crimson. You don't tell him you love him back.

When the sun has disappeared and left only fading memories of its presence, you shuffle him on your lap and pull up your pants, shoving your flaccid dick back into its place. He copies you. You try and stand up, hoping he'll copy that as well, but he clings to you like his life depends on it. You carry him to his room and set him down on his bed, then strip him of everything but his boxers. Dave just watches you with confusion painted on his pretty face. When you move to his dresser to look for clean boxers, he jumps into action and scrambles from his bed with a harsh shriek of "No!"

But by the time he gets to you, it's already too late. You've seen what you weren't supposed to. You pull out the pair of orange boxers that are dirty and too big for him. It takes less that a second for you to recognize them as the ones you thought you had lost, and even less to see the terror in his eyes.

You drop the boxers back into the drawer like it doesn't phase you, just so that he feels less embarrassed. Even you're not a big enough jerk to poke fun at him while he's this vulnerable. You rummage around and find a clean pair of his boxers and toss them to him. He gets the gist and replaces the ones he's wearing. You turn to leave, to go back to your room and do some thinking, but his hand, tight on our forearm, stops you.

"Stay." He wimpers, "Please, Bro, stay."

He sounds so pathetic that you have to. Besides, you need to talk to him anyway. Now is your chance to stop running away from conversations you don't want to have. You have to learn that strafing sessions on the roof only fix small spats, not whatever mess the two of you got just yourselves into.

You flip off the lights and strip down to your boxers. You prefer to sleep naked, but there's no way you're gonna do that with Dave next to you. You slide into the bed, facing away from Dave.

"You actually did it." He observes, voice stone cold in the dark, and you know he's trying to act cool to make up for all the emotions earlier. You know it embarrassed him. It embarrassed you, too. His hands are warm on your side, trying to slip to your stomach and feel more skin. You can feel his hot puffs of breath on your neck.

You roll to face him, searching for his bright eyes in to black, relieved when the dark shadows conceal the glowing red. It'll be easier, you hope, to have this conversation without seeing his eyes. Like you, when his eyes are exposed, everyone can read what Dave is feeling. You take a breath, knowing his nose is barely an inch from yours. You have the overwhelming desire to kiss him, but you don't.

"We need to talk." You reach out and place your hand on his taut stomach, connecting yourself to him instead of the distancing that you are so used to. He tenses under your touch, hesitantly putting his own hand on your stomach, in the same spot that your hand is on his.

"We are talking." He retorts, his voice barbed and shrunken. His hands betray him, spreading out on your bare skin, trying to feel more.

"You know what I mean."

He groans and curls up, nudging your hand away and pulling his own back to fold up on his chest. "It's not like we have any family to disown us or turn us in."

You flinch, so tiny you're not even sure Dave notices it, and turn away from him. You hate talking about your parents. You hate just remembering them.

Dave reaches out to you again, the pads of his fingertips ghosting over the skin of your back. "Why don't you ever talk about them?"

You turn back and pull him against you, his face in your chest, but you don't answer. You had always been glad he had stopped asking about them and why you left. You didn't have the heart to tell a kid what you went though back then. You change the subject back to the pressing matter and he doesn't object.

"What do you want me to do?" You ask the shadows on the wall.

"Be with me." Dave replies, muffled by your skin.

"Why?"

"Because I love you." He says with so much confidence that you almost stop doubting it for a second.

"No, you don't." You know the only reason this is happening is because you weren't a proper guardian.

He pushes away from you and sits up fast, his body rigid with anger. You can practically feel his glare through the dark. Dave then pulls you up as well, smashing his lips against yours, kissing you angrily. You kiss back, dominating, but gentle. He bites your lip so hard you can taste blood, then pushes you away. You don't take any offence by these actions, you know he has so much pent up anger and no way to let it out. It is your fault, anyway.

"Why don't you believe me?" Dave demands, gripping your arms so tight his short nails bite into your skin and draw flecks of blood. All you can see of him is his quivering silhouette.

"Because you don't know what love is." It is a hypocritical thing for you to say, considering you don't know either, but he doesn't have to know that.

He catches your hypocrisy though, pulling you forward and knocking his forehead against yours. "And you do?"

You kiss him in response, harsh and pressing deep into his mouth. When he moans you pull away. He growls, predatory and demanding. You don't know how to respond. You let your body take over and pull him down on your chest as you fall back down into a lying position. He kisses you first but you dominate it, rolling him over and pressing your hard chest into his. His hands are all over your body and you return his favor, heavy petting his chest. When he bucks his hips you pull away, panting hard. His breath is hot on your face.

You roll away and groan. "What the fuck, Dave? What are you doing to me?" You ask, not expecting an answer.

"So you do feel something for me too." He states the obvious facts.

"I wouldn't be mackin' on you if I didn't little man."

You can practically hear the shit eating grin in his voice. "Let's try it then."

"Try what, exactly?"

He lets out an over-done exasperated sigh, "Fucking. Boyfriends. Brothers with benefits. I don't care. As long as I get you."

"Sounding a little possessive there Dave." You smirk even though he can't see your face.

He crawls on top of you, acting like a little kid again and making your stomach roll with disgust for yourself. "So what?"

"Fine."

He kisses you, and you let your body form into the perfect mold that is the spaces of him. He's smiling so hard you can barely kiss him. You aren't so sure about your decision, but he seems so happy for the first time in a long time that you don't say anything about it. You just try and kiss his stupid smiling face.

"Thank you." He breathes, planting kisses all over your face. When he tries to come back to your lips, you push him off of you, rolling your eyes.

"Go to bed."

He whines at the statement, but you turn your back to him. He gets the message and curls into a ball. You hear his breathing fall into an even pace and mere minutes later Dave is completely asleep.

You yourself eventually fall asleep with thoughts about how you royally fucked up that conversation and how it did not go the way it was supposed to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there will probably be more to this story but idk when it'll happen.


End file.
